Salvage
by Mabfefe
Summary: Every breath was ragged. Every shift of his already slumped over body was excruciating. The metallic tang of blood lingered in his mouth. Eyelids screwed shut in pain. He was dying and he knew it...


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form.

**Author's Note: **This was inspired by the work of a lovely artist on **deviantart**. If you wish to see more of her wonderful work please visit her at **madtenka** on **deviantart**.

* * *

Every breath was ragged. Every shift of his already slumped over body was excruciating. The metallic tang of blood lingered in his mouth. Eyelids screwed shut in pain. He was dying and he knew it.

He had sacrificed both himself and his vessel so his charges could save their kin. He had done everything he could to ensure their safety and he was dying because of it. Cut off from heaven he could do nothing, but try his best to keep James Novak from feeling the pain that came along with the death of a vessel.

The soft thud of steps came towards him and it distressed him; he could not tell who the entity was by grace alone.

"Tsk, tsk." the sound he so often heard from Sam Winchester (usually directed at Dean Winchester) met his ears and he was filled with the hope that the boys had come to find him.

His hopes were dashed when a strong hand lifted him from the floor and up onto his feet.

"Hello Castiel." the voice was familiar and for the briefest of moments he felt a sick sort of comfort at the sound of his brother's vessel.

"You are an absolute wreck, you know that?" The voice was light hearted as though it was merely a simple exchange of words among friends.

"…Lucifer." a hand quickly latched onto the other's arm in some sort of primitive notion that it would help to keep him safe.

His eyes looked up to see his brother's rotting vessel. The skin covered in lesions and hair beginning to thin and fall out in spots; all the while a smirk adorning his face.

"Oh….wait, what's this?" he could feel his brother's eyes lock intensely onto the banishing sigil that he himself had intricately carved into his chest from which blood still flowed.

"…Don't touch…" the words leave his lips in nothing more audible than a whisper.

He was so tired. More tired than he has ever felt in his life span. His eyes look down at the source of his pain before he notices the black edges being to seep into his line of vision. A deep abyss of comforting darkness creeps closer and he finds himself falling into its embrace. As his eyes close he falls.

* * *

He feels the sudden weight as his sibling enters the state of unconsciousness. He looks upon the youth, feeling the slight flicker of what's left of the other's grace as it tries to repair the damage. A moment of slight hesitation and then he lets loose a sigh and hoists the younger one onto his shoulder. A part of him, buried far beneath the surface, becomes worried over how still and rag-doll like his brother has become. That part is quickly diminished as annoyance sets in.

"Little one…" his voice is quiet.

For his brother is still young. In comparison with his own age, Castiel was merely a fledgling, barely out of the nest. Yet his brother had done what all others, excluding himself of course, had failed to do. He had stood against the better judgment of God. Here he was, on earth, shunned by his brethren and fighting for a seemingly hopeless cause.

"Just what did you do?" he found himself questioning, his mind never forgetting the sigel adorning the other's chest.

"Were, you going to commit suicide?" close enough in his mind.

To think, an angel of his intelligence (Lucifer knew he was intelligent, far more so than any other fledgling should be) had placed a sigil meant to banish angels onto himself. That could have obliterated him to pieces. He was lucky to still be in one piece, albeit battered and near death.

"Just for those stupid Winchesters?" he was already quite sure of it. Those Winchesters were Castiel's whole world at the moment and he knew the youth was using all his resources to protect the two meat sacks.

"…You irritate me." and it was true. The young one did much to irritate the elder. Near death was just about the last straw. He was ready to smite the youth where he stood, but he felt he owed his brother this much.

Besides, as the saying went: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.


End file.
